


come home with me

by msssstilinski



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msssstilinski/pseuds/msssstilinski
Summary: She bows, “Lord Hades, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”“I’ve been expecting you, Piper McLean.”She straightens, kaleidoscope eyes ghosting across the room. “Have you?”
Relationships: Jason Grace/Piper McLean
Comments: 14
Kudos: 61





	come home with me

She knows the story -- of course she does. 

The tale of Orpheus and Eurydice is one whispered over campfires, the flames flickering off her brown skin, warming her head-to-toe. It’s a tale signed upon and giggled at, as the moon shines through the Aphrodite cabin, with her siblings curled up in and around Drew’s bed.

Mitchell swears it’s a love story, a long-winded romance with epic highs and terrible lows that you swoon.  _ I want someone to love me that much. _

Lacey always counters with,  _ it’s about loss.  _ A frown etches it’s way onto her little face.  _ It’s about grief. It’s about heartache. _

Drew sneers, not as harsh as she used to, but still mean enough that Lacey squeaks. The corners of her mouth twist spitefully. She hisses when she speaks.  _ Orpheus was selfish. If he loved her, he wouldn't have looked.  _ Protests erupt around the cabin at that, but Drew argues her case and doesn’t back down. 

_ Love should be selfless. Orpheus’ was not. _

_ *** _

Nico doesn’t do it intentionally. He tells her stories of the Second Titan War, because she is curious and listening to him is soothing. She does not think of Jason. When Nico talks, fast and soft and his voice gruff from disuse, she forgets the pain she’s in. He mentions it off-handed, telling Percy’s story.  _ We used Orpheus’ tunnel,  _ he says,  _ the one in Manhattan.  _ He says the words music and Morpheus and Grover, but all she can think is  _ tunnel in Manhattan.  _

She knows he didn’t mean to put the idea in her head. Nico is not foolish, or reckless, and he knows that death is death and people should not come back from the dead. The idea stays with her for days, ricocheting off of every corner of her brain. She can’t get rid of it. 

_ She can bring Jason home. _

_ *** _

She stares at the entrance, brows furrowed, arms crossed tentatively across her chest.  _ This will work _ she tells herself, again and again, a mantra she forces herself to believe. The entrance is a small crack in the ground, a jagged sort of scar that’s daunting to look at. She shivers in the morning cold.  _ This will work.  _

Piper pushes away all these wicked emotions, buries her doubt and her fear deep inside until she can no longer feel it. She closes her eyes, lets the rising sun wash over her, and breathes deep. She embraces the small spark of hope sitting lightly in her chest, lets it overwhelm her, until she’s full to the brim with it. She is unstoppable, unbeatable, and  _ this is going to work. _

So she sings.

She sings the first some that comes to mind, an old Cherokee hymnal that surprises her. She sings until the ground opens in front of her, a set of earthen stairs leading down, down, down. 

She swallows heavily, picking her backpack up and tossing it over her shoulder. Katoptris rests against her hips, light and easily accessible. She can do this. She can save him. She will. 

She plunges into the darkness and the earth swallows her up. 

***

Being under the earth is not a pleasant feeling.

It’s cold and damp and suffocating. The air around her is thick and hot, making it hard to breathe. She can’t see. She’s surrounded by complete darkness. Her steps are careful, deliberate, determined not to slip. 

For a moment, she wishes she were back above ground. She hesitates on the steps, holding the cavern wall to keep steady. This is a foolish quest, with an unattainable goal, and she’s stupid to think she could accomplish it. Could she impress the Lord of the Dead? Would he release Jason? 

_ Orpheus was selfish,  _ Drew’s voice whispers in her head,  _ are you? _

She shakes herself out of that. She is many things, but she does not give up. 

Her trek continues, and it gets impossibly darker with each step. 

After what feels like hours, light fills the cavern. The end of the tunnel opens up into the Underworld. It’s lit up with torches, and distantly, she sees Elysium. She blinks to clear her vision, once, twice. She wipes sweat off her brow. Why is the air so hot?

Her first obstacle is the panel of judges, and she wishes they were people she could recognize, but she’s never been good at history. There are three old-men, all of them ghastly pale and see-through. She smiles at them, a honey-wicked smile that oozes charm. She bats her eyelashes and commands them to let her through. They listen --  _ of course they listen. _ Everyone listens when she talks, eyes glazing over, limp limbs at their sides, mouths open. 

Piper is long gone before they recover.

She runs into Cerberus secondly. The hellish-creature towers above her, drool leaking from one of it’s mouths. All three heads growl at her, body bent low in preparation to attack. He’d be cute if he weren’t so ferocious. 

“Sit,” she says and her voice does not waiver an ounce.

“Stay.” she commands, and he does. He sits and he stays and his tail does not move. 

When she reaches the Mansion of the Underworld, she gasps. It’s a giant black marble building that looms dangerously over everything else. She dares to think that it’s more beautiful than Olympus itself.

Annabeth would hate that.

She marches up the mansion steps, through the foyer, and straight into the throne room. Hades draws her attention immediately, relaxed in a pin-strip suit against the marble throne. He’s a handsome man, with the same sharp cheekbones and pale skin that Nico has. They share the same dark eyes, the same unruly hair, the same power drips from them both, raw and untested. She searches for Hazel in him too, finds her in the curve of his jaw and the bow of his lips. There’s a certain comfort in the way his eyebrows rest upon his foreheads. 

He does not scare her, not when he reminds her of the people she loves. 

He sits straighter as she waltzes in. Fire flickers in his eyes, lips pursed in a thin line. 

She bows, “Lord Hades, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ve been expecting you, Piper McLean.”

She straightens, kaleidoscope eyes ghosting across the room. “Have you?”

He stares at her, hard and unforgiving. She feels as if she’s being cut open and examined from the inside out, as if he sees her and knows all there is to know. He nods, “Yes. You wish to bring him back, do you not? Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, hero of Olympus. It’s a foolish quest, my girl.”

“And why is that?”

“Orpheus sang a beautiful song that warmed even my cold heart. I let him leave with his Eurydice and he failed to do the one thing I asked of him. And you,” he pauses, that cold stare on her once more, “are no Orpheus.”

Something sharp pierces her chest, a fleeting ounce of doubt. She pushes it away quickly. She is iron and steel and she will not bend. She smiles, “You’ve never heard me sing, my lord. How can you know if I compare?”

“I do not care if you have the most beautiful voice on earth,” he hisses, rising from his seat, eyes flashing dangerously. He steps from his dais painstakingly slow. He circles around her as he speaks, voice low and sharp. “I know that you mortals have weak minds and weaker hearts. You do not have the patience or the selflessness needed to succeed. Certainly not you, a fickle daughter of Aphrodite. I will not waste my time. Now, leave me.”

“Don’t you dare insult me!” She counters, unable to stop herself. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. I won’t leave without Jason.”

“Is that so?” He gets in her face, close enough she can sense death on him. Screams of the damned gather up in her ears.She wonders suddenly if this is what Nico would be like angry. Absolutely terrifying. 

She will not back down.

“Jason leaves with me,” she commands, feeling empowered when he blinks, momentarily dazed. “He leaves with me, or I will be back every day until you give in.  _ I am quite persistent.” _

He seems to shake away her words, eyes narrowing. “Charmspeak will not work on me.”

“Let me sing you a song. If it pleases you, you release Jason. Give me the chance to save him.”

His eyes glaze over once more, and he nods. Before he has the chance to recover, Piper sings. She pours her heart into this song, lays down every emotion she’s ever felt. She gives away all of her pain, her fear, her doubt. She unloads all of her hope and joy and confidence into it. Jason’s laughter rings in her ears, and she sings.

The Lord of the Underworld sits in his throne again, as she finishes, his eyes watered. She swells with pride. 

“Was that to your satisfaction?”

Before he answers, a voice like honey cuts in. “Oh, I thought it was beautiful! You have such a powerful voice, as so rarely does music grace our halls. You enjoyed it, did you not, husband?”

The voice comes from the goddess Persephone, who stands in a chamber entrance, a wide smile gracing her face. She is stunning, with wild flowers braided into her hair and a brilliant golden dress tugging all her curves. She is bright against the bleak surrounding. Tendrils of darkness pool at her bare feet, the way water would. 

She is more as home than Piper would have imagined.

Hades stares at his wife, and his face grows soft. The goddess comes to stand beside him, resting a delicate hand on his shoulder. He says, “It will not end well, my love.”

“That’s your pessimism talking, darling. Give them a chance. She might surprise you.” She smiles again and the smell of daisies reaches Piper’s nose. Gratitude washes over her, and she vows to spare a part of her meal for Persephone at each meal.

Hades hums. His gaze lands on Piper, but it’s a curious look upon his face. He grins, “Very well. You and your precious boy shall leave the way you came. The moment you enter the tunnel, you shall not look at him. Look, and he will vanish. If you can make it to the end of the tunnel, out of the Earth, Jason will return to the land of the living. Tread carefully, my dear, and remember it was Hades who granted you this.”

The king of hell snaps his fingers, and she finds herself in the front of the cavern entrance.

“Pipes?” A soft, confused voice says.

She turns, her heart swelling massively inside her chest. Jason stands before her, his school shirt stark-white and unstained. He is pale and transparent, and her heart aches momentarily.  _ Only until we reach the top.  _ His eyes are electric, the bluest of blues even now. The scar on his lips catches her attention, and she remembers her own, almost identical. She reaches out to touch his face, but her hand falls straight through him.

“Oh,” she whispers, suddenly cold.

He smiles, and his hand comes to cup her cheek. Warmth radiates off of him, but she can’t feel his touch. “Just until we reach the top,” he says, the same certainty in his voice that always comforted her.

“Jason,” she breathes, “it’s time to go home.”

She wants to hold him and kiss him and feel his chest against hers. Soon, she hopes.

“Lead the way, then.”

She smiles, a real genuine smile, her first in weeks, and turns from him. Into the darkness they go.

***

As soon as the light vanishes, she gets the urge to glance at him. She doesn’t, of course, but the need stays with her. It bothers and bothers, like a scab she needs to pick at, begging to be itched and scratched. 

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

“Jason,” she calls out, still climbing. One hand rests on the cavern wall, guiding her way. She had thought going up would be easier, but the temptation makes it hard to focus. 

“I’m here. I’m right here.” His voice sounds far away, distant. That can’t be true though, because the small of her back is hot, as if his hand is there to catch her if she slips, to keep her steady and upright.

Jason was always good at that, catching her when she falls.

“How far away are you?”

“I’m right behind you,” he answers, “I promise.”

She nods, though she knows he can’t see her. She can’t see much in front of herself, and each step she takes is a careful one.

The climb lasts for hours, and with each minute the urge to see him grows. She almost glances back a couple of times, but Jason stops her. He tells her about Elysium, about his plans for the future, and she won’t ruin them.

Not when they’re so close.

They reach the end of the tunnel, finally. The entrance is closed, sealed tight, and Jason seems to whisper in her ear, “Sing.”

She does, for the third time that day, and the crack opens wide, moonlight pouring into the cavern. She scrambles out as fast as her feet will allow, collapsing on the ground. Exhaustion overwhelms every muscle of her body. Still, she does not look until the earth seals itself back up.

She glances where Jason should be, and sobs when she sees him there, solid and real and  _ alive.  _ He falls into the ground with her, pulling her into his arms. He crushes her against his chest, and she sobs again. His entire body is warm, and his heart beats in his chest, and she counts to ten and pinches herself and tells herself she isn’t dreaming. This is real.

Jason’s alive.

_ He’s home. _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :)


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